


Dance With Me

by xaccier



Series: dreamnotfound fics [8]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cake, Dancing, Disco, Drinking, Drunk Dancing, Drunk George, Fluff, Gream - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Kissing, M/M, Music, No Smut, Touching, dream taking care of george, dreamnotfound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaccier/pseuds/xaccier
Summary: The scent of foaming booze and stale donuts hangs heavily in the air, and the mossy tinge accompanying it—due to the age of the building that the disco party is being held at—aids in keeping Dream as grounded as possible while dancing with the angel that graces him. George's slow movement and quiet joy is enough to make Dream feel plastered, though, so in the end it isn’t much help.—dream and george dance together at a disco.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: dreamnotfound fics [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026964
Comments: 5
Kudos: 143
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	Dance With Me

**Author's Note:**

> CW // this includes very mild implied underage drinking & underage sex, but does in no way go into detail at all. please read with caution either way <3
> 
> please do not shove this work or any of my other work’s into the cc’s faces. thank you!

Dream's breath quickens as George's fingertips graze over his sides, gentle touches gliding up his body. Flushed boys press together in smooth jigsaws, and all of the air in Dream’s lungs is dissipated in one fatal exhale when George sends a devilish grin up at him.

The harlequin lights send Dream's mind into a frenzy, reeling, inhibition crumbling effortlessly under George's taunting, _teasing_ gaze. Memories of sleepless summer nights jumbled with heated, mingling bodies and burning exposure fester in Dream's plagued mind, erupting through his body language as he brings a large hand up to rest in the crook of George's neck. A pleased murmur escapes the chestnut boy as a result of the newfound contact, and Dream's fingertips curl in on themselves giddily against George's thin waist where his other hand lies.

Streetwear students mixed with grunge dropouts sway dangerously all around them, Budweiser beers being sipped on with zero caution and bumping into each other being the consequence of intoxicated twirling. Dream barely notices. Studying George's hooded lids and feeling his arms snake their way around his waist firmly, Dream presumes George doesn’t notice either.

Dream feels the strands of restraint that were previously coherent inside of him unravel as though they are mere balls of cotton as George's pale, slender arms rise to balance leisurely on Dream's broad shoulders. His breath hitches when George's familiar inebriated giggle bubbles up out of his throat and hangs in the air, despite Jennifer Lopez's _'On The Floor'_ blaring sonorously into their ears.

The scent of foaming booze and stale donuts hangs heavily in the air, and the mossy tinge accompanying it—due to the age of the building that the disco party is being held at—aids in keeping Dream as grounded as possible while dancing with the angel that graces him. George's slow movement and quiet joy is enough to make Dream feel plastered, though, so in the end it isn’t much help.

A gentle bump of George's hip into Dream's side as the earthy boy declares, "You need another drink!" His words leak out of his _(_ _gorgeous)_ mouth slurred, breath hot, and it clearly reeks of alcohol with Dream being close enough to smell it (or rather, taste it on the tip of his tongue) but the tanned gent doesn’t dare back away.

"I dont think so, Georgie," Dream replies smoothly, casually inserting a cute nickname that, in any other situation, he would not have gotten away with. The intoxicated brunette just hums though, laughing, utterly and blissfully unaware.

When Dream feels a bony elbow dig into his shoulder-blade and he jerks forward into George, he realised that the boisterous dance floor was becoming more and more crowded as the night went on. Peeking up at the glass ceiling with George still swaying tenderly in his arms, Dream notices the glowing moon glint high in the sky above them and ultimately decides that the two had finished their partying for the night.

Dream tentatively removes his hand from George's neck to pull the boy by his hand, dragging him carefully through the crowds of carefree, inclined teenagers making out on nearby pool tables and windowsills, meaningless relationships blossoming expansively. Dream feels reminiscence teeter in the corners of his mind, but continues to push through the swarms until the two safely reach a clearing.

Lazy banana peels and spilled red solo cups lifelessly submerge the floor as though it were some kind of rank blanket, and Dream gingerly tip-toes over the rubbish like broken shards of glass. George, however, ignores the mouldy banana sticking to the souls of his shoes as he steps through the masses of litter completely unbothered. His head slants to the side in response to the disgusted glare Dream throws back at him, before they both stop their travelling altogether.

Dream inhales sharply. Light from the makeshift kitchen next door streams through the cracks in the old wood, tearing through it and pooling over George in a wash of golden light. George squints at the radiance beaconing its way into his eyes, and Dream relishes at the sight of it. He swoons embarrassingly over the pools of honey in George's eyes, highlighted by the pink drunken-blush that dusts over his nose.

"Pretty..." Dream mumbles, admiring, and he steps closer to take George's warm hand in his. The music continues to play somewhere in the background, but neither let its weight distract them. George's eyes flick down to Dream’s chest at the compliment, confused yet flustered undertones in his actions that make Dream keel over inside.

George lifts Dream's hand up, cherishing in the way that it coats his own perfectly. Dream lightly squeezes, and the blonde doesn’t miss when the corner of George's mouth twitches up with fondness.

Earlier tipsiness fades to the back of Dream's mind as his senses become preoccupied with everything _George_. George's eyes, George's waist, George's smile, George's hand against his own. Everything about the boy is exhilarating, and Dream can’t get enough.

The blonde doesn’t dare question it when George steps closer. Trusting. His mouth doesn’t crack open in curiosity when George places his hand on Dream’s shoulder, steadying himself. He doesn’t even let himself _ponder_ when George pulls him forward, hands outstretched, and the two start to twirl in rhythmic motions together.

Careful footsteps and heaving, tired breaths can be heard as they dance in perfect sync, harmony erupting from the pair as the unrehersed dance seeps into their brains as though they are reading it aloud from a book. Flawless strides upon flawless strides, easily connecting like puzzle pieces as they dance rhythmically to a song that should not be formally danced to, but they don’t care. Dream is to absorbed by George, and George is too elated by Dream. Their bodies stay flushed together, and Dream feels some form of euphoria drip down his spine and shake his body in a loving shiver. 

The music stops a few times, but they don’t. Song after song, drink after drink and yet the two stay in the same area, moving but unmoving. More red solo cups are discarded onto the floor beneath them as juveniles sip away their sorrows and adolescences make their way upstairs for more than partying. George's smile stays unwavering through it all, and Dream doesn’t want to be the first to pull away. Neither do. And so, they stay swaying.

George's hand lightly, meekly, trails it’s way down from Dream's shoulder to press against his chest. The brunette picks the fabric between his index and thumb, rolling the thin material between his fingers. Dream stares down with careful intensity, swallowing thickly when George peers up at him through brown locks.

"Do you want to leave?" George asks, and Dream's hand automatically tightens around the other’s waist.

His heart thumps, heat spreading from his chest to his stomach. "No," He answers honestly.

George hums, this time thinking. "It's getting late, though."

"Now who's the voice of reason?" Dream teases, snickering. Dream finds it strange how quickly George can mellow himself out.

George's eyelashes flutter as his eyes rolled in half-hearted distaste, and Dream blinks back the wave of adoration he feels appearing behind his ribcage.

"Yeah, whatever." George's accent is heightened and his words stay slightly slurred, appearing in an almost whisper, as the contents of that night gurgle in his stomach. "I have a headache."

Dream bites the inside of his cheek, titling his head up as his eyes fall shut. His body relaxes and the dancing pair slow, formal movements instead replaced by steady rocking back and forth. "Do you want me to take you home?"

A muffled breath leaves George's mouth and he hunches forward, pressing his warm forehead to Dream's clothed chest. Dream feels the shorter's breath tickle his heart, and he faintly wraps an arm around his shoulders.

"I want cake."

After a silent moment with only the decaying sound of crap music from the party in the background making any noise, Dream laughs. It’s more of a scoff.

"Cake?" He asks, tone raising in disbelief. "Seriously?"

Dream feels George's body rock against him as he shrugs. "I dont know why. I just do."

Dream sighs—the content sort of sigh that you let out when you sit down and put your feet up after a long day of hard work—and he pulls back from George. By this point both have stopped dancing all together, and are left only with their chatter and beating hearts to keep them moving.

"I'll get you cake," Dream promises.

George connects his hand with Dream's, pulling at his fingers absentmindedly. A smile graces his lips and Dream can’t stop himself at the sight of it.

He bends down ever so slightly and presses his lips firmly against George's. It’s a secure kiss, and yet the tenderness and love that the two feel for each other seeps through every second that they stay attached. Warmth spreads from Dream's lips down to his chest, rushing to every limb and bone in his body and from the crimson blush that blankets George's face, Dream can guess that he feels the same.

**Author's Note:**

> to anyone waiting for the new chapter of the jock and the programmer to come out, it will be out soon i promise :D
> 
> please leave a kudos & drink water if you haven’t already :) also make sure you do your homework because guaranteed at least one of you has forgot lmao
> 
> thanks for reading!


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